<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Performing by Duane_S_Hall</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293232">Performing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duane_S_Hall/pseuds/Duane_S_Hall'>Duane_S_Hall</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossdressing Kink, F/M, Masks, Partial Nudity, Rubber, Self-Bondage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:55:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293232</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duane_S_Hall/pseuds/Duane_S_Hall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas reveals his crossdressing kink to his roommate, Len.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Prose From the Abyss</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dialogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I may write more stories with these characters in the future if there is any interest.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Thomas could not yet feel at home in his new apartment, then he could at least feel at home in his body.  To that end, there was nothing like a morning jog through chill autumn winds to instill the sort of invigorating ache in his lungs and bones that he needed to reinforce his sense of self.  As his rhythmic pounding of feet on concrete slowed, his focus shifted to his echoing heartbeat and the door to his second story apartment.  He tried to be quiet as he made his way back inside his not-yet-home since his roommate didn’t share his enthusiasm for mornings.  Unfortunately the air pressure differential meant the door dragged open then thumped closed after he slipped inside.</p><p>She preferred Len to Glenda and sleeping on the couch to hauling herself to bed after a long night of drinking.  A cold burst of air stabbed her eyes and forced her into the waking world.  “Fuck,” she said between smacks of her crusted lips.  She knew better than to ask him why he was awake so early.  He was like a rooster whose neck she wasn’t allowed to snap.  “Hey, you cock.”</p><p>“Good morning,” he said with his head in the refrigerator.  “We have some parmesan reggiano left from Italian night.  I could make you an omelet with it.  A sprig of parsley isn’t ideal but-”</p><p>“No!  Damn it.  Coffee.”  She heaved her pantsless legs onto the floor and began her stumbling crawl to the percolator.</p><p>Suit yourself, he thought.  After a few minutes of eggs on low heat, eager whisking and a single careful fold, the omelet was his to enjoy alone save for the disappointment that he was out of fresh dill.  He joined his slovenly companion at their tiny dining table where she nursed a hot cup of stale brew.  “You should drink your beer the same way.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t drink it if I had to taste that crap.”  She downed the remainder in one spiteful swig and hid her discomfort from him as best as she could.  Television seemed like a good idea until the caffeine kicked in.  A pre-show advertisement for her coffee brand promised smoothness in every cup.  “I don’t know who they’re fooling with these ads.”</p><p>“They want you to feel like you don’t have a better option.”  He turned back from the bathroom door.  “I’m going to take a quick shower then I might need your help with something.”</p><p>“Alright,” she said.  Knowing him, it couldn’t be anything too demanding of her.  He seemed to be the sort who always had to do it himself.  He immediately entered his room after his shower and eventually emerged with a box of supplies and a bald cap secured over his hair and ears.  “Who taught you how to use a condom?  I’m joking, I know what it is,” she said as he began to interrupt with an explanation.</p><p>“I’m doing a makeup test ahead of a monologue for my theatre class.  Are you familiar with Neil Simon’s ‘Last of the Red Hot Lovers’?”  She shook her head.  “It’s a play with a number of popular monologues and while I’m sure Dr. Lavoie wouldn’t be surprised to hear one this semester, she might be sur-”</p><p>“Nope.  It’s a theatre class.  Drag has never been surprising.”  He was clearly in search of an explanation.  “Does the play have any werewolves?  Zombies?  Demons?  That’s how I knew.  I totally could have helped you with one of those other looks.  I’ve had a thing for horror special effects since 6th grade and I’ve figured out a thing or two.  I’ll show you some pics later.”  He set down the box and lifted from it an object in the rough form of a bust.  “Ooh, you’re going all the way with prosthetics.”  He nodded.  “I could see that impressing the teacher.  She won’t let it influence your grade if she’s any good at her job but she’ll be impressed.”</p><p>“I agree, but I still want to do something a bit different.  While a standard full head mask would look fine in still pictures, I would only be able to secure edges around the eyes and mouth so I wouldn’t have a full range of expression.”  He separated the clamshell halves of the bust and laid them open side up on the kitchen table.  “Individual prosthetics would mostly eliminate that problem but it would require hours of application each time.  I’ll be right back,” he said as he took off to his room.  He came back with two large teardrop molds whose purpose was obvious.  “What if the prosthetics could be molded directly onto the body?”</p><p>Len remained skeptical of the conclusion that Thomas was clearly reaching.  “I’m no expert on injection molding but I’m pretty sure that it involves high pressure.  And knowing how thick liquid rubber can be,” she said as her distressed voice trailed off.  “This doesn’t sound safe.”</p><p>“I thought of that.  So instead of using an injection molding process, I’ve opted for an expanding foam silicone.  I brushed a few layers of cap plastic on the inside of the molds last night so they’re good to go.”  He poured some super glue onto an applicator sponge then applied a heavy layer over his chest.  “While that’s drying, I can mix the silicone, pigment and foaming agent.  Another advantage is that it uses a third of the silicone of normal prosthetics as it will triple in volume.”  He carefully measured then quickly mixed the ingredients before smearing the viscous rubber into the breast molds.  The molds were clamped onto his chest with his hands as an improvised bra.  “It’s going to take about ten minutes to cure so I’m going to wait on the couch.”  She loudly cleared her throat.  “Right, I forgot.  I’ll stand over on the tile.”</p><p>She sat on the couch and returned to her show, leaving her bald and mostly naked roommate alone with his budding bosom.  She craned her neck to continue their increasingly awkward conversation.   “So, you said this was a makeup test.    Are you testing the method or the look?”</p><p>“The look, so I’m certain it’s safe.”  He eventually felt a tickling sensation then pressure from the expanding rubber creeping against his skin.  He responded by steadying his grip.  Eventually he could feel the silicone seep out from under the edges.  He had to be slow and gentle as he broke the vacuum seal between the mold and his new breasts.  The pull of adhesive confirmed that they would not be coming off by accident.  Len saw as Thomas walked across the apartment that they didn’t bounce at all like real breasts.  She had seen silicone prosthetics in action before and figured that the foaming agent was responsible for the stiffness.</p><p>“I didn’t think I’d be saying this until June but are you going to paint those nipples?”</p><p>“I did add a bit of detail, didn’t I?”  She had to laugh at his understatement.  “I’ll be painting them to match the rest so if I want to be thorough then I might as well.  But I want to get the rest of the prosthetics in place first so we’ll move on to the head and hands.”</p><p>She assumed he meant an at-home manicure but wasn’t surprised when he came out of his room with another set of molds for his hands and forearms.  “I feel like you’re taking this too far for a school assignment.  I bet she didn’t even ask you to dress up.”</p><p>“Then it’s a test in case I ever have to.”  He opened the glove molds on the tabletop and Len’s suspicions were confirmed with a glance.  She knew where an argument would end up but she was past asking questions.</p><p>“If you were aiming for realism, then you would not be wearing these bulky gloves.  You would use foundation and nail polish.  You’re using a class assignment as a flimsy excuse to turn yourself into a rubber doll.”</p><p>He feigned incredulity.  “How could you possibly think that I- I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with having a kink or fetish but-”  He saw that she wasn’t buying it.  “Okay, so I thought it would be fun to be a doll for a day.  Do you have a problem with that?”</p><p>“I have a problem with lying.  If you had told me this morning ‘Good morning, Len!  I’m going to super glue rubber to my face, hands and chest because I want to look like a plastic bimbo!’ then I would have asked you to not get anything on the carpet because that shit does not scrub out.”</p><p>He was cupping his breasts until he could get a bra out of his room.  “So you’re okay with it?”</p><p>“It shouldn’t matter,” she said before taking the morning into full account.  “That is, unless you can’t get in and out of this without help.”</p><p>“I’ve worn the mask and breasts before.  I suspect that if I glue on the gloves, my hands will be completely useless.”</p><p>“You see?  This is why you have to be able to talk about these things.  How do you know I’m going to let you out when we’re done?  To be clear, I would but I’d probably leave you in it for a while longer to teach you a lesson-” She saw his eyes light up and sighed in frustration. “-and that’s part of your fetish, of course.”</p><p>“You said you’d let me out if I put on the gloves.  Please?”  She wasn’t used to hearing pleading from him and was missing his old self already.</p><p>“It’s about eight right now.  I’m heading out at noon for lunch and then I’m at the hospital from two until morning.  You’d get maybe a couple of hours in that whole getup before I’d have to start getting your hands out.  You know what?  I’ll make you a deal.  Leave the gloves off today and we’ll schedule a play day when we have more time for it.  I still have a headache and the last thing I need right now are fumes in my sinus cavities.”</p><p>He sighed in resignation.  “Okay.”  He left again for his room and came back in a simple white bra.  “I’m stopping after the mask.  I promise.”</p><p>“Hey, I just don’t want to see you in the emergency room tonight.  We get enough people in there because they were too embarrassed by their kink to do it the right way.  They always say it was an accident.  How do you accidentally get a toy car up your ass?”</p><p>A compromise was reached and a plan for the day set.  He poured more super glue on to an applicator sponge and coated his face and neck.  He continued as best as he could around the rest of his head until he was certain he would be perfectly bound by the mask.  Len’s curiosity dragged her from the couch to the kitchen to watch closely as he measured and combined more of the rubber, pigment and reagents.  It was smeared along the plastic lining of the molds.  “So, I’m seeing some ‘inserts’ here.  I’m guessing they’re for breathing but they make this whole thing look like a torture device.”</p><p>“It’s not that bad.  The eye covers keep it from sealing my eyes shut as it expands.  The tubes for my nostrils allow me to breathe through the mold and the mouthpiece,” he said as he held the back half of the mold in place against his neck, “allows for breathing through a small slit and fills the inside of my mouth to make sure the lips are aligned.”  He wrapped his jaw and lips around the pliable gag and carefully let the other inserts settle in place as the two halves were forced together to form a tight seal against his collarbone.  He blindly fumbled for the latches that would keep the mold from separating and to his pleasant surprise felt Len’s fingers on his as she secured it for him.  She said something that he guessed was “Ten minutes” but it didn’t matter.  Now all he could do is wait.  It wasn’t long until he felt the material expand into the cavity as it caressed his cheeks and kissed his lips.  Swallowing became more difficult as his neck was corseted in the expanding foam rubber.  His jaw pressed further into the gag.  His fingers picked away at tiny bits of rubber that seeped out under the seal.</p><p>He undid the latches around his head and starting with the back half, released himself from his contraption.  He ran his fingertips along the smooth plastic-encased rubber enclosing his head and tried to pull the gag free through his frozen lips.  The mask pulled on his skin as the vacuum seal against his new face broke and the saliva-soaked gag slipped out.  He closed his eyes again as they adjusted to the light in the room.</p><p>“Welcome back,” said his roommate.  “You’re looking more like a cheap sex toy already.”  He went to the bathroom mirror and saw that it had all come out as expected.  He still needed cosmetics as his bust, except for his shoulders, was a solid pale mass.  He tested the range of motion in his new face.  Smiling proved impossible as his lips were fused into a semi-permanent pout.  Any attempt to stretch his jaw wider would sting.  He was no more than a hairless doll in need of painting.</p><p>“You alright in there?”  He came out to assure his roommate.  “Can you say anything?”  He could only reply with humming.  “I’m wondering how you imagined this playing out if I didn’t call you out on your bullshit.” She gasped with melodramatic flair.  “How could this be? You’re never going to be able to perform in that.  I guess you’ll have to be my doll forever now!“  He accepted the good-natured mockery and laughed as well as the mask would allow.  “Or at least until you got tired of smoothies.  Okay, now I want to see what you look like painted.”  He sounded surprised at least.  “Yes, really.  It’s better than television and I have a few hours to kill.”</p><p>He started by applying more adhesive to visible seams to blend them into his skin followed by concealing foundation to his chest above his breasts.  According to its advertising, its opacity was enough to cover tattoos.  He could believe it after seeing it in action for the first time.  He still was not about to go out into the world in this state so he focused on making what he could see in the mirror presentable.  False eyebrows and eyelashes were stuck in place after dark eyeshadow and eyeliner made his eyes pop.  He felt he could skip the contouring as the rubber gave him precisely the cheekbones he wanted.  A light touch of peach blush and matching lip color were certainly welcome.</p><p>“Nice,” said Len as Thomas finally returned the brush to his lip gloss.  “I might get you to do my makeup some day.”  He hummed affirmatively then rose to fetch a long, brown wig from his room.  A bit of glue held its lace in place against the plastic surface of his silicone scalp.  He turned to Len and inquired of her opinion with a hum.  “You look perfect for pictures but lousy for video.  You mentioned dressing up before.  What sort of clothes do you have for- I’m sorry, I have so many questions.”  He tried to assure her that her curiosity was welcome.  He went to his room and came out dressed for the first time this morning since his shower.  His outfit had been planned to complement his makeup.  A low-cut orange blouse, tan leggings and a short, black skirt completed his ensemble for now.  He would have to practice in heels eventually but it could wait for another day.</p><p>“So now what?”  He threw up his hands, shrugged his shoulders and plopped onto the couch at last to watch a bit of television.  “I should have guessed.”  She joined him on the couch until lunchtime inevitably rolled around.  Normally they kept their distance from each other but today, perhaps because he had shown trust in her and she returned his respect, they put their arms around each other.  Her warmth against his arms would have to be enough.  Their comfort with each other grew until Len, knowing she would have to ask, turned to face him.  “May I?”  Her puckered lips pressed into his.  Her tongue explored his mouth as little as his mask would allow.  He pulled her onto his lap and held her in a tight embrace.  He felt her pushing herself away and he let her go with deep concern.</p><p>“I just- I- I remembered something that I have to do before lunch and work so-  Are you going to be okay in there?”  He did his best to assure her that he would be okay.  “Alright.”  She hit the showers and left him alone as his creeping self-doubt burned away any confidence that he may have earned this morning.  She emerged from the bathroom in hospital scrubs to find him resting silently on the couch.  His inability to keep his mouth closed without effort added to his discomfort.  “I’m heading out.  We’ll talk about this later but I want you to know that you did nothing wrong.  Do you trust me?”  He didn’t respond.  “I need to know if you trust me.”  He finally nodded.  “Good.”</p><p>She turned back at the door.  “Did you remember to use release agent on your eyebrows?”  The sudden realization startled him awake.  “Uh-oh!  Have fun with that!”  She wondered if he took that literally then left until morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Monologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thomas goes out in public as Elaine for the first time to perform his monologue for his drama class. Len pushes him to go out as a woman for a lunch date with friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thomas had a long day ahead of him and limited himself to a quick cup of coffee so he would have the time to spare for touch-ups and the possibility of late public transit.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Len knew he could manage, but couldn’t shake her fascination with the face and persona he was slowly developing for Elaine, the scorned, would-be mistress of a middle-aged man in crisis.</p><p>“I can handle it.” He confirmed the fit of her silicone rubber nose to his own, then removed it to apply skin-safe superglue to both surfaces. It was carefully fixed in place, giving it a thin and prominent bridge. The remaining pieces of her face sat before him on individual plaster castings awaiting assembly. Her question reminded him of a conversation they had the other day. “Len,” he said in a tone he hoped was reassuring, “I’m still going to let you do my Halloween makeup if you want. I loved that alien design of yours. Who was the model?”</p><p>“Sophie, a friend from college. That was her only time wearing anything that extensive. The lifecast was claustrophobic enough for her but after a few hours in the mask she was begging to be let out of it. I think there was more to her panic than that, though.”</p><p>“Really? What else could it have been?” The seams around her nose were slowly disappearing with the aid of adhesive and diluted acetone.</p><p>“She was hoping to impress some guy at the party. He was nothing special as far as I could tell, but I think she wasn’t used to attention and she got attached in a hurry. He claimed he remembered her but couldn’t recall any details from their last conversation.”</p><p>He set down his brush and turned in his chair. “Were you eavesdropping?”</p><p>“A bit,” she admitted. “I didn’t like his body language. I’m a den mother of sorts. Look, if you want to understand women then know that some of us look out for each other because when you’re used to feeling vulnerable, it pays to be paranoid.” She stood in front of the fridge, then decided breakfast could wait for a bit. “Really, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was bluffing his way through it. It didn’t take long for his eyes to wander towards girls in more revealing outfits.” She pulled out a kitchen chair opposite Thomas but didn’t sit down, instead taking the moment to recollect. “By the time I finally peeled it all off of her in the bathroom, he already left with a sexy nurse. To think he could have had the real deal with her,” she said, then went to pour herself a glass of orange juice.</p><p>“I’m sure she was better off in the long run. Not that it would have hurt any less in the moment. I’m not sure I would have minded the rejection so much if I were in her shoes. She could have played it off as being an alien who was unfamiliar with human mating rituals.”</p><p>Len choked on her juice, then wiped her mouth as she stifled a giggle. “Oh, like that would have gone over better! Seriously, he would have left immediately if she had done that.”</p><p>“Instead of almost immediately.”</p><p>“Point taken. But that’s not her style and nor was he, so like you said, she’s better off.” They sat in silence while Len quietly nursed her orange juice and Thomas carefully lifted the chin piece from the positive plaster mold. It had a softening effect on his masculine jawline after being precisely secured. “I always look ridiculous when I’m halfway done.”</p><p>“Not that it matters. As long as it looks great in the end,” she said with a wry smile. “By the way, do you have a lifecast I can borrow? Or do I need to smother you in alginate tomorrow? I have a lot of sculpting to do for the costume I have planned for you.”</p><p>“You’re going to make me hideous, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Beauty is subjective,” she said, then walked over to pat him on the back reassuringly. “You’ll have to trust me. Knock ‘em dead in class today.”</p><p>*****</p><p>On a bench outside Dr. Lavoie’s classroom, Eric compulsively bounced his knee as he recited his monologue to himself from memory. “Second prize is a set of steak knives. Second prize is-”. He knew how it should sound but acting, as he understood it, isn’t mimicry. He wasn’t sure how it should feel but he knew he wasn’t feeling it. He knew it was only a class assignment. He trusted his teacher to be a qualified critic. His knee wouldn’t quit. “Let me have your attention for a moment.”</p><p>“Alright, you have my attention,” said a young woman carrying a black coach purse as she approached from around the corner. “That line about steak knives sounds familiar but the name of the play escapes me.”</p><p>“Ah, it’s from ‘Glengarry Glen Gloss’,” he said as he lost himself for a moment in her placid gaze and full peach lips. “I mean, ‘Ross’. Sorry. It’s Blake’s speech, you know, Alec Baldwin’s at the beginning of the movie.” Her loitering near the classroom door compelled him to ask. “Are you here for Dr. Lavoie’s class?” She nodded. “Did you transfer in this week? Because I feel like I’d remember seeing you in class.”</p><p>“You saw me. You aren’t seeing me now.” she said, moving closer and making herself available for inspection. His focus returned to his performance ahead.</p><p>“Oh, okay then,” was all he had to say.</p><p>Classmates gathered as the time for class drew closer. With a minute to spare, Dr. Lavoie came with the keys to let in her students. Once they found their seats, she spoke to settle their nerves. “I want our scheduled actors to relax. You’ve had all weekend to practice. Remember, I’m more interested in how the elements of your performance come together than I am in any specific part of it. When the audience sees you on stage or screen, they aren’t wondering about your enunciation or your tone or your body language unless you have failed to sell them on your performance. If you can get the audience to buy what you’re selling, so to speak, then the rest is window dressing.” The professor picked up her class notes from the lectern and checked student names.</p><p>“We have three students scheduled today. Portia’s monologue from ‘Julius Caesar’ will be performed by Carolyn. Blake’s monologue from “Glengarry Glen Ross” will be performed by Eric and Elaine’s monologue from ‘Last of the Red Hot Lovers’ will be performed by-” She adjusted her bifocals and reread her notes. .“Thomas, you’re-”</p><p>“Right here,” said the young woman in her low-cut orange top.</p><p>After a close inspection, she deduced from the lack of visible pores on the young woman’s face and breasts that they were the result of extensive prosthetic makeup. “Silicone rubber and foundation, I presume?”</p><p>He gave a deferential nod. “The mask is a seven-piece prosthetic. There are the ears, cheeks, chin, a nose and forehead piece. Oh, and the breasts are also glued down.”</p><p>“Noted, but I did not ask for students to perform in costume today. If you don’t mind, can you demonstrate the range of motion in your mask?” Thomas opened his mouth carefully, gave a half-hearted smile and tried to squint in one eye, then the other. “I suspect your mask is either too thick, improperly adhered or you did not use enough deadener. Assuming the rest of the work is yours,” she said, receiving a nod in reply, “then you have potential backstage. That’s not the purpose of this class.”</p><p>“I know, Dr. Lavoie. I wanted to demonstrate my range as a professional and my ability to step out of my comfort zone.”</p><p>“A single performance can’t demonstrate an actor’s range. I think your makeup is going to work against you today. But I am willing to be proved wrong.” She directed him to take center stage in the classroom as she took a seat with her students.</p><p>The actor took his place, shut his eyes, focused inward on his breathing and released his opening line. “You hypocrite,” he said with a bitterness and rage that his face could not reflect. “You soul-searching, finger-smelling, hypocritical son of a bitch! Who are you to tell anybody how to go through life?”</p><p>The professor kept silent through the expressionless delivery of the remainder of his monologue.</p><p>“I suspected as much. Did you perform a makeup test before today? Did you actually perform this monologue in front of a mirror in full makeup?” His silence told her enough.</p><p>“I can tell because while your voice and line delivery are adequate, I can’t see any facial expressions that match that tone. It looks like Elaine went overboard with botox treatments and a facelift.” She rose and stood in front of the class.</p><p>“This actually has been an issue with prosthetic makeup in theatre and film for decades so I don’t mean to be harsh. Gene Roddenberry instructed the makeup artists on ‘Star Trek’ to never design an alien makeup in such a way that an actor would be unable to emote. It’s how we ended up with so many forehead ridges and ear shapes. Even in modern times, such as with DiCaprio’s performance as J. Edgar Hoover or Carla Gugino in old-age makeup as the original Silk Spectre, we see makeup artists who forget that their prosthetic makeup has to move with the performer and allow them to work. If your schedule is open after class, I want you to perform in front of a mirror and try to understand my critique. Then we can talk privately in my office.”</p><p>*****</p><p>He stood in front of the mirror in the men’s bathroom down the hall from his class and tried to understand how another person would see his reflection. He didn’t have to dig deep to find his anger and frustration this time.</p><p>“You hypocrite!” His voice echoed off the walls. “You soul-searching, finger-smelling, hypocritical-” He felt her anger. “You hypocrite!” Could he actually see her anger? “You hypocrite! You soul-searching-” He saw no pain or fear in her eyes, but why should Elaine be frightened? Barney wasn’t a threat to her. He was lonely, bored and wanting an affair. Even if she did feel that way, why would she ever betray those emotions to anyone? She would keep them locked away behind a mask of sarcasm and wit. She would refuse to give him even the slightest pleasure in knowing that he could touch her with his desire if she could help it. Maybe some people can’t help but be vulnerable to the world. If they had the choice, they would choose to hide as he had done when he sealed himself away inside of her.</p><p>*****</p><p>“Dr. Lavoie?” A sharp tap on the door molding took her attention away from her reading.</p><p>“Thomas, come in.” He adjusted his skirt and set his purse beside him as he took a seat in front of her desk. “Are you okay with that name?”</p><p>“I guess I am. Yes, Thomas is fine.” He set down his purse and tried to find a way to rest his hands.</p><p>“I could hear you practicing in the restroom. You have quite the voice when you don’t want to be heard. Did you see what I was saying?”</p><p>“I think so. I sounded upset and my body language was expressive but my face said nothing at all.”</p><p>“For a mainstage production, microexpressions won’t be an issue. I could have clarified that in my critique. My other reason for wanting to speak to you in private was to find out why you actually chose to dress in this way. If this was part of your transition then I can understand your choices better but to go with something so elaborate and time-consuming- How long did it take for you to apply all of this?”</p><p>“It took about three hours. I’m getting faster with practice.” He remembered her other statement. “I’m not transitioning. This is only an occasional thing for me.”</p><p>“I see. I suppose you wanted to see the world from the other side.” He could only shrug his shoulders in reply. “It doesn’t matter which face you wear if your eyes remain the same. When you go out in public en femme, how do you interact with your surroundings?”</p><p>“This is my first time out in public like this. I’ve practiced my makeup many times before today in private.”</p><p>“That would explain your nervousness.” She laced her fingers and rested them atop her desk. “I look forward to seeing you perform your monologue without any of this getting in the way. To be clear, there is merit in learning to perform in costume if your goal is to grow through real-life experience. Would you be willing to try an acting exercise in public? You are free to refuse but I’d hate to see your hard work go to waste so soon. I want you to go shopping for clothing today before you go home. You don’t have to buy anything or head to the dressing room but I want you to ask a salesperson for their opinion on what you should purchase. Real conversations are essential practice and you can expect polite service at most places.”</p><p>He felt his blood pressure rise and a lump form in his throat. “I can’t. I don’t know. I don’t have anything planned but I can’t go.”</p><p>“That’s fine. Would you prefer another acting exercise?”</p><p>“This was a mistake.” He firmly held his jaw between his manicured fingers and nervously rubbed his rubber cheeks. He realized that even if he could rip his mask off now, it would make returning to his apartment much more uncomfortable, so it would have to stay intact for now.</p><p>“Our makeup department has solvent if you need any.”</p><p>He continued with idle pinches and nail scrapes against its surface. “She’s a lie. I feel selfish wearing this face in public. I’m okay with wearing it in class because you all understand it’s a lie. But anywhere else and all I want to do is avoid people.” A tug of her ear interrupted his train of thought.</p><p>“You’re right. This face is a lie. Until you are willing to commit to the performance, it will remain a hollow, insubstantial lie. Do you understand the difference between acting and lying?”</p><p>“It’s the setting, right? The audience knowingly agrees to believe the lies a performer tells in the context of the performance.”</p><p>“An artist cannot place the burden of communication entirely on their audience. Remember what I said at the beginning of class today. You have to learn how to sell the idea of your character as though you were introducing yourself to the world. Connect to her, then connect to others through her. Are you willing to be Elaine? Next Monday, I want to see Elaine remind all of us why she won’t settle for Barney and his treatment of her. But this time, I don’t want to see an ounce of rubber, glue, wigs or cosmetics getting in the way. Come as you are.”</p><p>He relaxed his hands and forced himself to stop fidgeting with the mask. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for your help.”</p><p>****</p><p>The city bus opened its door to three would-be passengers standing patiently along the sidewalk. A young man in a buttoned-down baby blue shirt gave a curt nod and dropped his heavy textbooks on the nearest seat. A young woman wearing the unusual combination of grey pajama pants, a matching sweatshirt and a black jumper, seemingly unaware that the bus had a driver, found her way to a center seat. Another young woman in an orange blouse and black skirt, baring a complexion too perfect to be natural, anxiously found her seat in the far back of the bus.</p><p>Thomas was done being Elaine for the day. He would try to be content with staring out the window and ignoring the cold until he arrived at the stop closest to his apartment. Nobody ever seemed to want to talk on the bus. It didn’t matter who he appeared to be as passengers were all the same to each other. It may be that in his pursuit of a perfect face that her visage crossed into the uncanny valley where the sight of her was more unnerving than appealing. It was more likely that bus riders were conditioned to see their travel as a brief stop in limbo rather than an event of its own. His hand moved into his purse and enamel nails tapped idly against his cell phone. It was only twenty minutes until his stop. Len said she wanted to know how his monologue went. He called to check and she answered on the third ring.</p><p>“Hey. How did your monologue go?”</p><p>“You were right,” he said with no sense of shame. For all of their differences, he never saw her as a harsh judge. Certainly, she couldn’t be more demanding than he ever was of himself. “She wants to see me perform the monologue again next week without makeup. I don’t have any other classes on Mondays so I’ll be back at the apartment in a few minutes.”</p><p>“Did you want to go out for lunch? I’m meeting some friends in about an hour.”</p><p>“Maybe after I’ve changed,” he said, being careful with his choice of words in case someone overheard.</p><p>“I’d love to see you in another dress. I don’t think my clothes would fit but you could borrow some accessories. I have a tan scarf that you might like.”</p><p>“No, I mean I need to change completely.”</p><p>“You’re tapping out so soon? I would’ve thought you’d want to be seen after the effort you put into that face of yours.”</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll talk more about it in a bit. Bye.” He wanted to be able to say ‘Yes’ but knew he had to decline. He hoped he wasn’t too abrupt when he hung up on her.</p><p>*****</p><p>He was prepared to spend another afternoon sitting alone in front of a screen when he saw Len dressed for a day out around town. In a stark departure from her usual navy blue scrubs or tattered pajamas, she chose a flattering pale yellow blouse and paired it with a white camisole and ivory slacks to match her faux-leather coin purse.</p><p>“Have you decided to come along?”</p><p>“I think I’m going to take my time and relax here. Maybe we can schedule something next week. I think they’d rather see me as my real self first. Actually, if you could give me a few minutes to unmask and change I’d love to meet your friends.”</p><p>“Alright, but I’m sure they’d love to meet Elaine. That is, if you’re keeping that name from the play for her. Now that I think of it, it could be weird if you were coincidentally playing a character of the same name. I haven’t mentioned anything to them about this side of yourself yet.”</p><p>“Good. Don’t. It’s not a side of myself. I still feel like she’s nothing more than a pretty face. It’s probably why my performance in class fell flat.”</p><p>“Then you can use this as a chance to explore her as an actual person. Think of it as improv practice.”</p><p>“Dr. Lavoie suggested something similar. I might be up for it later this week.” Len was disappointed to see him roughly grab his left rubber breast to try and rip it away.</p><p>“Please? I think this will be good for you. If it doesn’t work out, it isn’t like they’ll run into you again even if you run into them. They’re open-minded. They might even think it’s fun if they ever found out the truth.”</p><p>“They’ll get the truth on my own terms. I don’t want to lie to anyone and that’s exactly how this feels because it isn’t who I am.”</p><p>“It’s a chance to surprise yourself. How often do people ever give themselves that? I’ll make you a deal. Come out with us for lunch today and I’ll let you make yourself into the kinkiest rubber doll you could imagine for a whole day. I’ll take care of you the entire time.”</p><p>“No.” Starting from his nose, he pinched the prosthetic tightly between his finger and thumb. He winced in pain as Elaine’s face slowly deformed beneath his fingertips. As each shred of the mask was slowly and painfully torn away, he balled it into his fists then tossed it into the trash can. The wig was tossed onto a countertop and his bald cap soon snapped and joined the rest of the discarded silicone. “I’m so going to need a facial this evening,” he said before stepping into the bathroom to cleanse and exfoliate.</p><p>“Alright, I’ll call ahead. They can wait a few minutes for you to clean up and change clothes.”</p><p>*****</p><p>Her friends were waiting for her on the patio under a cloudless sky and the full afternoon sun. They were politely curious about her guest.</p><p>“This is my roommate, Thomas, and these are my friends and coworkers from the hospital, Lizzie and Sophie. I hope you don’t mind me bringing someone along.”</p><p>“Of course not,” said Lizzie. “Do you work in healthcare?” Thomas shook his head dismissively. “Then we’ll have to keep shop talk to a minimum. You might lose your appetite over some of the things we chat about.”</p><p>“No, feel free. I’m curious enough.”</p><p>“If you insist.” They took their seats. The three of them started on their iced teas, leaving Thomas to try and get the attention of a waiter.</p><p>“I’d like a glass of water,” he said. “Have you all ordered yet?”</p><p>“No,” said Sophie. “We’re ready now, I think. I’ll have the carbonara and a side order of salad.”</p><p>“The pasta florentine sounds good,” said Lizzie.</p><p>“I’ll have the chicken parmigiana,” said Len, leaving Thomas to be the last to order. Having not looked at a menu yet, he chose one of the other orders. “I’ll also have the florentine.” The waiter promptly left to get the water and place their orders.</p><p>“Tell us about yourself, if you don’t mind,” said Lizzie to Thomas. “Len hasn’t said much about you yet aside from how you’re a morning person and you love to cook.”</p><p>“She’s got me there. I’m only a student right now. I recently transferred from a community college into the theater arts program at Simmons University. I want to focus on acting to see if it’s for me.”</p><p>“Won’t know unless you give it a shot. And if it doesn’t work out, you might be able to find a job behind the curtains. Did Len here tell you about her special effects makeup work?”</p><p>“Yes, I’ve seen pictures.” He turned to Sophie. “Were you the friend who wore her alien design with the blue and teal fade and the massive ear lobes?”</p><p>“Yeah, that was me. I started freaking out a bit during the lifecast and Len was ready to stop halfway but I gave her the ‘keep going’ signal with my hands. She offered to tone down the makeup to just a head or nose piece-”</p><p>“Or I could have gone with straight makeup. Not everything has to be rubber and glue,” she interjected, giving Thomas a sideways glance.</p><p>“I know, but I didn’t think it would be as bad. And it wasn’t, until…” Sophie’s voice trailed off and Len picked up on it.</p><p>“I mentioned it to him already. He understands.”</p><p>“Anyway, she’s always looking for test subjects for her makeup projects. If you don’t mind being known as someone who enjoys acting behind a mask, you could carve out a niche for yourself there. Lots of performers can’t stand it.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “The way you said ‘test subjects’ has me curious. Who else has she been able to talk into the makeup chair?” Lizzie took her opportunity to join into the conversation.</p><p>“Two years ago on Halloween, Len was dating this guy,” she said, striking a nerve in Len. “He said it was her idea to dress him up as a woman for the party but I think he just said that to save face. Len’s not the sort to make someone feel uncomfortable on purpose. Are you?” Len shook her head and groaned as she allowed Lizzie to finish her anecdote. “The fact was we would never have known it was him if he never spoke. Even close up, you couldn’t tell he was wearing a mask.”</p><p>“I’ll have to get her to teach me a few things then. I dressed in drag for theater class earlier today and the prosthetics- well, they looked great until I moved my face.”</p><p>“'Perfect' is the enemy of 'Good',” said Len, “especially if your goal is realism. And his ‘Elaine’ looked more like a rubber doll than a real woman. It’s okay to have nasolabial folds, you know!”</p><p>“I know, but-” Thomas let his voice fade. He knew he had no rebuttal.</p><p>“I’m not trying to be mean. It’s going to take a lot of practice.” She took his lack of response to indicate the need for a new discussion topic. “So, Lizzie, how are things on the third floor?”</p><p>“You know, the usual. So, Thomas, what do you enjoy cooking? I’ve been practicing pastry lately and phyllo dough is driving me up the wall!”</p><p>“Really,” he said, suddenly animated by their shared interest.”It took me a while to master- okay, ‘master’ is an overstatement but you get what I mean.” She nodded in reply. “The good news is that once you get the hang of it, puff pastry shouldn’t be nearly as challenging. How has it gone so far?”</p><p>“It’s basically a pile of uneven crackers when it comes out of the oven.”</p><p>“It sounds like it could be a few things that need tweaking. Maybe we could practice together sometime?”</p><p>“Sounds like a date!” They both noticed Len’s apprehension and after exchanging contact information, decided to spend the next few minutes sipping their beverages until their lunch orders came.</p><p>*****</p><p>Thomas and Len settled in at their apartment, satisfied by their meals</p><p>He let her settle in first, then took a seat on the opposite side of the couch and left a cushion between them. “Sophie seems nice.”</p><p>“She is.” She picked up the television remote and found a sitcom to resume. “Don’t hurt her.”</p><p>“I won’t.” He couldn’t let the subject end there. “Why would you think I’d hurt her?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t.” She selected ‘Resume’ then sunk into her corner.</p><p>“Then why would-” Frustrated, he retreated to his bedroom.</p><p>“Thomas,” she shouted, trying to be immersed by the television. “Are you ready to try those rubber doll gloves out this weekend?” He heard, but gave no reply.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Casting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thomas is presented with a new opportunity and makes a good impression. Dinner with Sophie does not go as he hoped.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He told himself he was contacting her out of casual concern. They only just met and friendship was enough for a moment that he felt was quickly passing. With a nervous tremor in his fingers, Thomas texted Sophie the following morning to see when she wanted to come over to their apartment. He agreed to meet on Wednesday afternoon and offered to prepare baklava for her visit. She declined. “Surprise me with something simple,” she replied, ending their conversation for now.</p><p>His Tuesday schedule began with Playwriting. Professor Carrington continued his discussion of formatting and stage direction on the page. A one-act play script would be due at the end of the course and he had no idea where to begin. An early lunch at the cafeteria was followed by Classical Theatre with Burroughs. While he found the era of Shakespeare, Marlowe and the early days of The Globe Theatre fascinating, the course so far offered little additional insight beyond what his personal study had provided.</p><p>Fundamentals of Movement with Professor Page would be a chance to stretch his limbs. The class was scheduled to meet in the dance studio so they would have the space to move and mirrored walls for self-study. The focus of today’s lesson was on how aspects of character could be expressed through foot placement. His teacher had already heard of his interest in female impersonation and had him demonstrate masculine and feminine modes of walking for the class. She pointed out that proper hip movement, in the absence of proper hips, should be the result of foot placement and encouraged him to practice more in his free time.</p><p>Carolyn caught him as he was gathering his things from the corner. “Hey, Thomas. So, do you think you’ll have time for a side project this year?”</p><p>“I’m not working right now so I might. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I heard about a student project from a couple of guys who asked if I was up for playing a witch in an untitled horror film. I was,” she said with a sigh, “until I saw their character sketches. Do you remember that old children’s horror film with Angelica Huston?”</p><p>“ ‘The Witches’? An older cousin had me watch it with her once. I think she thought I would have been more scared than I was but- anyway, I remember. It was fun. Oh, I’m guessing their design-”</p><p>“Their design was more bulbous, but I got a similar impression. I don’t think I could handle it. It looks like it would itch like crazy after a bit and knowing you couldn’t actually scratch- I’d go nuts.”</p><p>“They’d probably have to go with foam latex for something like that so it wouldn’t weigh as much as you’d think. Also, it would only be glued around the edges of the piece and not your entire face.”</p><p>“But no scratching allowed?”</p><p>“That’s true of regular stage makeup, too, isn’t it? It’s not that awful, really.”</p><p>“But then there’s the claustrophobia and-” She gestured toward her eyebrows and Thomas took the hint.</p><p>“Oh! That was my fault. They got stuck in a mask and I had to rip them out to get it off. It’s not something I’ll let happen again. They’ll grow back eventually.”</p><p>“Ah. Maybe I’ll give it a try one day. I could sit for a test makeup and decide afterward. So should I tell them you might be interested?”</p><p>“I’ll let them know myself when I get the chance. I could ask around in the film department.” He would like to play the part himself, which might not be an option for a man. Then again, if the character was heavy-set and lacking a discernibly feminine shape then anyone would, in theory, be able to play her. He’d have to put his best face forward, whichever that might be in this case. That decision could wait until after he investigated a bit further.</p><p>“They have flyers up over there. Try and get in touch with them by the end of the semester. I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.” With that, they went their separate ways for the day.</p><p>*****</p><p>He walked from campus today to give himself time to practice his feminine stride away from judging eyes. He stopped trying to perfectly align his feet, remembering his class instruction and Len’s words from yesterday. “ ‘Perfect’ is the enemy of ‘Good’.” It might never feel natural but eventually it might look natural enough at a glance.</p><p>The corner grocery store was well-stocked with produce for tomorrow’s dinner date. But all he knew about Sophie was that she liked cooking, Italian food, and not feeling like a bother. None of that helped him at the moment. She wasn’t expected to help cook, he wasn’t about to serve Italian food so soon after their lunch together and while he would consider any meal he could make to be worth the trouble, he understood that it at least had to look simple. The varieties of rice on display brought to mind risotto, paella and Asian stir-fry. Cheese varieties were limited to ricotta, feta and cheddar of various grades. They were sadly sold out of eggplant which meant ratatouille was off the menu. “Simple and surprising,” he said out loud to himself as inspiration finally struck in the frozen foods section.</p><p>*****</p><p>He got back to his apartment with his sack of frozen vegetables, chicken breast, butter and cream. Len was relaxing in her sweatpants and bra in front of the television with what sounded like a new police procedural. He couldn’t quite place a finger on what made it sound new.</p><p>Len’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. “So, what are you making for us tomorrow night?”</p><p>“ ‘Us’? I thought you were working tomorrow afternoon.”</p><p>“I switched my shift with someone. They wanted the weekend off. Is that a problem?”</p><p>“No, I think I have enough for the three of us.” </p><p>“I actually need another pair of hands tomorrow evening for something anyways, so this’ll work out.”</p><p>“I could have helped. Dinner won’t take very long.”</p><p>“You’ll be occupied.” Thomas shrugged. “And mostly naked.” He froze, then remembered their plans from the other day.</p><p>“Oh,” He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with Sophie seeing him in such a state. “How extensive will the lifecast be?”</p><p>“I’m going to need molds of both of your hands and a full head cast with a partial dental mold. I probably couldn’t apply the alginate fast enough by myself before it all sets. Will you be okay with all of that?”</p><p>“Sure,” he said. “So I get to keep my pants on.”</p><p>“For now. I’m joking, it’s a joke!” She didn’t even give him time to react before excusing her comment.</p><p>He threw together a sandwich out of their well-stocked fridge. “I’m heading to my room for the night. Goodnight.”</p><p>“G’night,” she said while never turning her head his way.</p><p>*****</p><p>Breakfast meant coffee and acting class meant sitting and listening to monologues from his classmates. He made a point of making an insightful comment early on to avoid the pressure of appearing disinterested in front of Dr. Lavoie and his classmates. Class let out without a hint of fanfare. Unremarkable days were underrated, he thought.</p><p>He delayed his return to his not-quite-home by hiding out in the library and finishing his required course reading. His studies were eventually interrupted by a text from Len requesting a call.</p><p>Thomas obliged her as soon as he left the building. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“When were you planning on starting dinner?” He wondered why that couldn’t be asked via text.</p><p>“Whichever time works for you two, I guess. When is Sophie going to be over?”</p><p>“She’s already here. Say ‘Hi’,” Len said, and Sophie could be heard greeting him in the background.</p><p>“Great,” he said, understanding her call request. “I’ll be right over.”</p><p>*****</p><p>Sophie was passing the time on her cell phone while Len could be heard sorting through boxes as Thomas came through the door. </p><p>Her phone disappeared into her purse. “Hey, so how have you been?”</p><p>“Okay, I guess.” He rid himself of the awkward silence by taking off to the kitchen and setting up his double boiler. Sophie was content with watching at a distance under the assumption that he wouldn’t want anyone bumping elbows in their cramped kitchen.</p><p>Cream was emptied into the pan, then a sack of flour was set beside it.</p><p>“Cream sauce?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, hunting for his favorite whisk in a drawer.</p><p>“Is there anything special that you do to it?”</p><p>“Not really. Whisk in the flour while it’s cold then keep whisking over low heat until it’s thickened. Nobody likes clumps.”</p><p>“Oh. Good to know.” Her cell phone tempted her for a moment. “Can I help?”</p><p>“If you want.” He measured out the flour before dumping it over. “You can put the chicken in the oven. Thin coat of oil, then 350 for 30.”</p><p>“Is that all?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s going into a chicken pot pie. You said you wanted me to keep it simple.”</p><p>“I did. It’s fine. It sounds delicious. I’m not complaining.”</p><p>“I know.” She got to work preparing the chicken breast while he thoroughly blended the mixture. He let her slide it into the oven while a stick of butter melted in a pan on a back burner. The pie crust recipe he had in mind sacrificed quality for speed. She wanted a simple meal, he reminded himself. His first instinct was always to impress people, but pleasing someone doesn’t always mean impressing them.</p><p>Sophie found a seat opposite Len on the couch while Thomas eagerly alternated between whisking the cream filling and forming the two pie crusts. Len kept trying to converse with Sophie but couldn’t find a topic that would engage her. So she put a raunchy comedy on to fill the quiet void. After a few minutes without a shared laugh between them and only a single chuckle from the kitchen, Len scooted to the middle of the couch.</p><p>“You can come sit between us when you’re done,” said Sophie as she dug her bottom deeper into her side of the couch.</p><p>“Alright, as soon as the chicken is ready I’ll assemble it and get it baking. It should be another half hour after that.”</p><p>“In that case,” said Len, “we could get your lifecast done while we wait. Sophie seems restless. I think she’s looking forward to getting her hands dirty.”</p><p>“I’m okay with whatever you want,” said Sophie to Thomas.</p><p>He sighed deeply. “Sure, let’s get this over with. Just make sure you don’t let it burn.”</p><p>“Awesome!” Len seemed giddy as she hurried to her room for her supplies. “Clear a space on the floor behind the kitchen table where you can sit.”</p><p>Thomas mixed the frozen vegetable mix into the cream sauce, assembled the pie then slid it into the oven. “Watch the clock and check it at 4:30. It should be browned at the edges and golden on top.” He then went to his room to strip down and change into a pair of old boxer shorts, pausing for a few moments before opening his door.</p><p>Sophie didn’t seem to mind what she saw but he assumed politeness rather than approval. Len came out with a large bucket full of pink powder, poured a measured amount of cold water into it, then got to work mixing the alginate with her hands into a consistent gelatinous goo. Once satisfied, she scraped the excess off her hands into the bowl. “Alright, sit down. I’m going to set this behind you and I want you to stick both of her hands into it. Keep your hands and fingers separated so I can get the impression I need.” Thomas settled onto the tile and set up his hands as though he were in a backwards dive. Len pressed down on his elbows until his hands were firmly encased in the chilled alginate. He knew cold water gave her a longer working time so he expected to be waiting a few minutes longer.</p><p>“You didn’t have to-” Thomas stopped short of possibly starting an argument. It was supposed to be a relaxing evening for the two of them, now three, and he knew how important it was to work quickly and accurately with the material.</p><p>“Okay, I’m going to prep the dental molds. Sophie, want to get one of the halves? Just smear this gunk into one of them then push it into his mouth against his teeth.” He held his mouth agape. Once both halves had been inserted he closed his jaw and lips around them, then focused on breathing through his nose. Len grabbed a latex bald cap and stretched it down over his head until it fit tightly onto his scalp. “Hand me that bottle of glue and a clean brush.” Sophie handed them over and let her get to work securing it in place against his forehead, over his ears and to the nape of his neck.</p><p>“It smells nice,” she said of the pie in the oven. “Should I check on it?”</p><p>The alginate had already solidified around his hands, allowing him to lift it and tap it against the tile. “Mmhm-mhm,” he said, shaking his head.</p><p>“Ten more minutes?” He nodded.</p><p>“We’ve got time,” said Len, who had moved on to mixing a larger bucket of alginate. “I’m going to start dumping this over his head. You can work on the back of his head and neck. I’ll handle the detailed work around his face and keep his nose clear.” The cold gel quickly made its way across his latex-encased scalp, atop his ears and down his forehead, which made him shiver. He braced himself to hold still as busy palms and fingertips pressed against his head and face, ensuring no air would be trapped beneath the alginate. Len knelt down to get a better view as she pressed the compound over his eyes and guided it around his nose.and the plastic handles sticking out of his mouth. He felt globs of it fall off onto his chest, which were scooped up and smeared against his throat and under his chin. As they continued, he could feel resistance to his facial muscles as the substance solidified. By the time it became unworkable, his head was completely encased. He hoped Len would turn up the heat in the apartment so he could stop shivering.</p><p>Sophie scrubbed the alginate from her hands in the sink, then checked on the pot pie. It was brown on the edges but not anywhere in the center. “Should I stick a fork in it?” Thomas tapped the ground once with his encased hands and she took it as a ‘Yes’. After checking with a fork, she confirmed the crust had set and took it out of the oven to cool.</p><p>Len took some plaster bandages out of their plastic packaging, cut them to size, soaked them in water and wrung out the excess. “I’m going to finish wrapping his head, then we can eat dinner while we wait for them to harden.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t we wait until after you release the mold?”</p><p>“I’m hungry now. We’ll save some for him later. I was hoping we could have a quick chat, just the two of us.”</p><p>“I’m not eating without him.”</p><p>“Fine,” she said, applying a cold bandage to his mold and smoothing it in place. “I’ll eat and we’ll talk.” She saw the tent in his boxer shorts and briefly considered ‘forgetting’ to create a separation line between the bandages so he’d be stuck until a scalpel could chisel the plaster apart. But that could damage the mold, which would interfere with her plans for playtime later on. So she only applied them to the front half of his head and let them harden.</p><p>Thomas noticed his shoulders were beginning to cramp and tried to find a better position to rest his encased hands. He hoped a grunt and double tap of the container would remind her that his hands were ready to be released. For whatever reason, Len didn’t respond and left him in the cold and dark on the tile floor behind their dining table. He groaned at his predicament as he imagined how helpless and vulnerable he had allowed himself to be in front of the two women.</p><p>Len got herself a slice of the pie and settled into a chair above him to eat. She gestured to Sophie to sit across from her, which she did but without a plate of her own. “Did you get a good look at his underwear? I think he’s enjoying himself down there.” </p><p>“No,” Sophie said, tensing up again.</p><p>“You like him, don’t you?”</p><p>“I’d like to get to know him better. I was hoping this dinner would be a chance to do that. Why did you have to cast him tonight?”</p><p>Len tore into the pie with her fork and appreciated that it was more filling than his usual cuisine. “So you’d get to know him better. He’s kinky. Like, really into it. Like, ‘crazy-glued into a rubber doll mask’ kinky. That’s why he’s missing his eyebrows, by the way.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to ask about those. But so what? You’re kinky, too.”</p><p>“Oh, I definitely am. The point I’m trying to make is that you aren’t.”</p><p>“So? You two are allowed to have your...hobbies and interests. I don’t have to be involved in everything a friend does.”</p><p>“Exactly, a ‘friend’. If you were thinking of being anything more than his friend, you’d have to accept that he’d want you to be involved in his kink. Trust me, if you aren’t compatible in that way then it won’t work. It didn’t work for me last time, remember?”</p><p>“Is that why you broke up? Or is that what you tell yourself?”</p><p>“Nevermind. Are you sure you aren’t hungry? It turned out great.” She took another bite from her plate.</p><p>“I am, but I can wait. We could have waited. Hurry up and finish with him.”</p><p>“The plaster needs to finish hardening before I apply the back half.” Neither of them had more to say as Len tore through the remainder of her dinner and dropped her fork onto the plate. She got up, turned around and bent down to tap the plaster with her fingernails, startling him from his meditative rest. It heated as it hardened but as it seemed to have cooled down again, Len decided it was time for the rest. She scooped some petroleum jelly out of an old container with flecks of plaster from previous casts and smeared it along the rigid edge around the top and sides of his head. A second pass with the release agent helped ensure the two halves would not be fused together when they set. More plaster bandages were soaked, wrung and smoothed against the back of his head, turning the previously pink mass into a solid white mound. She remembered his hands, but chose to leave them until she was ready to pour plaster into the negative or so she told herself.</p><p>“So that’s another ten to fifteen minutes. You okay in there?” He grunted and breathed sharply out of his nose holes to assure her his breathing was clear. “Alright, we’re almost done. Just hang in there. I’m going to grab another piece of pie while we wait.” Sophie refused again as Len passed the time with another helping of dinner.</p><p>More fingernail taps around his head confirmed the plaster was ready for removal. She had to think twice about straddling him first, but decided to simply slide the back half of the plaster off and start cutting into the alginate with a butter knife from the kitchen. “Sophie, come help hold the front half of this while I slide it off from the back.” Thomas reflexively tried to bring his hands out in front to assist but found them firmly encased and trapped behind his back. He held his hands forward into a waiting pair of hands as Len carefully extracted his ears from their encasement. He had trouble contorting his facial muscles to break the vacuum seal since his mouth was still full of plastic and alginate, so he had to rely on the two women to slowly and carefully pull it free. Eventually his face and head broke free of the alginate after close to an hour. His lips had to be pried loose by their fingers as he stretched his jaw to release the mold.</p><p>“Huh, that was something else.”</p><p>“You’ve had lifecasts done before, and that rubber doll mask from the other day was similar,” said Len.</p><p>“But that was only ten minutes and at least I had a chair. And I had my hands free for the other lifecast so I could help free myself. Why didn’t you release my hands first?” He tried freeing his hands himself but found he couldn’t get any leverage to break the vacuum seal, which proved far stronger than the material would have had him believe.</p><p>“Oh, I forgot,” Len lied. “Here, let me hold the bucket down for you.” Thomas was finally able to get enough resistance with her help to break the seal, releasing his hands.</p><p>He flexed his fingers, shoulders and jaw as he was finally able to address the cramps that had formed. As they backed away so he could stand, his lower back ached further. He brought his hand up to remove his bald cap and found that the adhesive she had used was far stronger than expected.</p><p>“Sophie, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to take a shower before we have dinner.” He saw that a third of the pie had already been eaten.</p><p>“That’s fine. I’m still a bit full from lunch.”</p><p>“Len, do you have some solvent I could use?” He pried at the edges of the bald cap with his fingers to no avail.</p><p>“You’re going to have to let me take it all off in the bathroom.” He shrugged. He wasn’t exposing himself any further by allowing her to help and knew it would be easier for her than for him. They entered the bathroom together and Len stood behind him with brush and solvent to begin releasing it from the back. “So, how do you feel about Sophie?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t even know how she feels about me. We’ve hardly had a chance to talk. It’s why I thought a dinner with just the two of us would be a good idea but you had to stick yourself into the middle of things.”</p><p>“I knew you were looking forward to your lifecast and I thought you’d prefer the attention of two women tonight.”</p><p>“What? No. I- You could have done it by yourself.”</p><p>She began working her brush around his left ear. “Maybe.” After releasing it from the other side, Thomas held out his hand for the bottle of solvent. She handed it to him along with the brush so he could finish removing the latex cap. He tossed the rubber into the trash.</p><p>“I’ll pour the plaster while you’re in the shower.”</p><p>“Alright. When you’re done, if you want me to be your dress-up doll for Halloween, you can leave us alone for the evening.”</p><p>“You’ll need me if you want to go all the way with your rubber doll costume.”</p><p>“I know what I need. I am telling you what I need. Leave.”</p><p>*****</p><p>The finished molds sat in the corner of the kitchen where the plaster would set over the next 24 hours. Len made an excuse to leave, claiming she forgot to pick up some coffee filters for the morning. Relieved by her absence, Sophie and Thomas sat across from each other, famished, as they dug into their chicken pot pie.</p><p>“It’s a nice recipe. I liked how it turned out,” she said as she dug in her fork again.</p><p>“It tastes better warm,” he assured her as he did the same.</p><p>“I bet. Could you show me the full recipe some time? I’d like that.”</p><p>“I could have done that tonight.”</p><p>“We’ll have other nights.” They cleaned their plates, each stopping short of conversing as topics came to mind and passed as quickly.</p><p>“I wish I was up for conversation tonight,” he said.</p><p>“It’s okay. I get it. The night was- I wouldn’t say ‘ruined’...”</p><p>“No. Say it. It was a mess.”</p><p>“Well, I’d like to see you again sometime. We could meet this Friday at ‘Victoria’s’ They have a drag revue every other Friday night and there’s someone performing that I’d like for you to meet. You two have a lot in common.”</p><p>“Alright. That sounds good. So is it a ‘date’ date or something else?”</p><p>“I thought you and Len were-”</p><p>“Oh, no. I mean, we were but- there’s nothing serious there.”</p><p>“Meet me there at seven. I can’t wait to see you again.”</p><p>“Thanks. Take care.” She left him alone with his thoughts and feelings as his apartment, at last, began to feel like a home.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>